he By dissimulation, perfidy, and bloodshed, paves his way to the throne: by the same base and inhuman means he endeavours to secure his pre-eminence; and has added to the list of his crimes, the assassination of his wife and his nephews. Meanwhile he is laying a snare for himself. Not Richmond, but his own enormous vices, proved the cause of his ruin. The cruelties he perpetrates, excite in the minds of men hatred, indignation, and the desire of revenge. But such is the deluding nature of vice, that of this consequence he is little aware. Men who lose the sense of virtue, transfer their own depravity to the rest of mankind, and believe that others are as little shocked with their crimes as they are themselves. Richard having trampled upon every sentiment of justice, had no conception of the general abhorrence that had arisen against him. He thought resentment might belong to the sufferers, and their immediate adherents; but, having no faith in the existence of a disinterested sense of virtue, he appears to have felt no apprehension lest other persons should be offended with his injustice, or inclined to punish his inhuman guilt. Add to this, that success administers to his boldness; and that he is daily more and more inured to the practice of violent outrage. Before he obtained the diadem, he proceeded with caution; he endeavoured to impose upon mankind the belief of his sanctified manners; he treated his associates with suitable deference; and seemed as dexterous in his conduct, as he was barbarous in disposition. But caution and dissimulation required an effort; the exertion was laborious; and naturally ceased when imagined to be no longer needful. Thus rendered familiar with perfidious cruelty flushed with success; more elate with confidence in his own ability, than attentive to the suggestions of his suspicion; and from his incapacity of feeling moral obligation, more ignorant of the general abhorrence he had incurred, than averse to revenge; as he becomes, if possible, more inhuman, he certainly becomes more incautious. This ap. pears in the wanton display of his real character, and of those vices which drew upon him even the curses of a parent. Dutch. Either thou'lt die by God's just ordinance, Or I with grief and extreme age shall perish, His incautious behaviour after he has arisen to supreme authority, appears very striking in his conduct to his accomplices. Those whom he formerly seduced, or deceived, or flattered, he treats with indif ference or disrespect. He conceives himself no longer in need of their aid: he has no occasion, as he apprehends, to assume disguise. Men of high rank, who shall seem to give him advice or assistance, and so by their influence with the multitude, reconcile them to his crimes, or bear a part of his infamy, cease to be reckoned necessary; and he has employment for none, but the desperate assassin, or implicit menial. All this is illustrated in his treatment of Buckingham. Blinded by his own barbarity, he requires his assistance in the death of his nephews. Buckingham, having less incitement than formerly to participate in his guilt, hesitates, and seems to refuse. Richard is offended; does not govern his temper as on former occasions; expresses his displeasure; refuses to ratify the pro mises he had given him; behaves to him, in the refusal, with supercilious insult, and so provokes his resentment. Buck. My Lord, I claim the gift, my due by promise, For which your honour and your faith are pawn'd; Th' Earldom of Hereford, and the moveables, Which you have promised I shall possess, &c. Rich. Thou troublest me: I am not in the vein. [Exit. Buck. Is it even so?-Repays he my deep service Thus the conduct of Richard involves him in danger. The minds of men are alienated from his interests. Those of his former associates, who were in public esteem, are dismissed with indignity, and incensed to resentment. Even such of his adherents as are interested in his fortunes, on their own account, regard him with utter aversion. A stroke aimed at him in his perilous situation, must prove effectual. He arrives at the brink of ruin, and the slightest impulse will push him down. He resembles the mishapen rock described in a fairy tale. "This astonishing rock," says the whimsical novelist, "was endowed, by in"fernal sorcery, with the power of impetuous motion. It rolled through a flourishing kingdom; it crushed down its 66 66 66 opponents; it laid the land desolate; and "was followed by a stream of blood. It "arrived unwittingly at an awful precipice; "it had no power of returning; for the bloody stream that pursued it was so strong, "that it never rolled back. It was pushed "from the precipice; was shivered into frag"ments; and the roar of its downfal arose "unto heaven." 66 The pleasure we receive from the ruin of Richard, though intimately connected with that arising from the various displays of his character, is, nevertheless, different. We are not amazed, as formerly, with his talents and his address, but shocked at his cruelty; our abhorrence is softened, or converted into an agreeable feeling, by the |